Hair
by ministryofmagic
Summary: Really, he was freakishly tall, couldn't dance, had a problem getting to second base with the girl that he loved, and now he had an obsession with her hair?


**This is something I thought of when I couldn't fall asleep last night. **

**..O..**

The first time she asked him they were baking cookies in her kitchen. Her dads had gone out after a long speech about how they trusted Finn not to do anything in this big empty house they were leaving them in. That line only gave Finn some ideas, but he quickly shook the thought out of his head, knowing Rachel would never go along with them. Well, maybe. But he didn't want to try anything for fear of being either slapped, lectured, or yelled at. So Finn just swallowed and nodded at her dads, telling them that he could be trusted as Rachel wrapped her arms around him and told them they should go now before it got too late. Her arms around him altogether triggered more ideas about what they could do alone in a big empty house. Finn pulled himself out of his thoughts enough to say goodbye to her dads and quickly walk to kitchen where he proceeded to gulp down a glass of cold water. Rachel then had walked in, completely oblivious to his flustered state and voiced that they should make cookies. He immediately agreed that he it was a great idea (although not better than the other ideas he had in mind, and thinking about them again made him fill up his glass again, gulping it down fast) and Rachel started preparing everything. Now, back to the present, she had just put them in the oven. He was sitting at the table (he isn't the best baker, and sadly both him and Rachel had to learn this the first time he tried to make her brownies for Valentine's day and they turned out crispy black, which made Rachel suppress a laugh he knew was coming his way) and trying not to stare at her butt as she bent over. When she turned around, he could tell she had something to say by the way her lips puckered. So he just sat there and waited.

And waited, and waited.

"Finn, do you think I should cut my hair?"

His answer was immediate. "No."

"And why not?"

He could tell she was upset. Rachel always got upset over the littlest things, and the only way that Finn could that she was really _upset_ and not just "upset" was when she got that little crease in the middle of her forehead. His eyes stayed glued to that crease. It was so small that he was sure no one else could have noticed it but him. Right under her hairline, which was pulled back enough by that pink sparkly headband of hers that she loved so much. As Finn continued to stare (which he could tell was really starting to annoy Rachel, mainly because he hadn't answered her question yet) the crease only grew deeper. He placed his elbows on the counter top, something she didn't like him doing, His eyes followed the line of her hair. It flowed down her shoulders and reached down to her waist. It had gotten longer since the summer started, he could tell. He noticed the way some parts were a lighter shade of brown than others from the way the light hit it. It shined, just like her.

He didn't know when his obsession with her hair started. Maybe it was around the second time they kissed and he finally got to run his hands through it. It was so _soft_. It fell through his fingers like sand. And the way it crowned her face perfectly made him love it even more. So of course he didn't want her cutting it. Not even a trim. It sounded stupid, and crazy, and maybe a little weird. Okay, a lot weird. But this is exactly why Finn didn't want to tell her why he loved it so much. She had asked him countless times. It was stupid of him to even think that she wouldn't notice his obsession with her hair. He touched it, stared at it, loved it, smelled it _all the time_. And she didn't complain, at all, but that didn't mean that she didn't notice. And she asked him about it. All the time. But he never answered. He only shrugged and kissed her forehead and told her she was special and that he loved her. She never brought it up after that, not until now anyways.

"You know why."

"Well, yes, but why?"

He glanced at her hand as it gripped the counter then looked back at her eyes as they challenged him. He could tell she was getting worked up, and he didn't want to talk about the topic further. Really, he was freakishly tall, couldn't dance, had a problem getting to second base with the girl that he loved, and now he had an obsession with her _hair_? How much worse could it get for him?

"Because it's perfect just the way it is." He stood, walking over to her and bending down to kiss her forehead. "I love you."

"You know that line isn't always going to work on me, right?" Her tone was sharp, and she still had that little crease in the middle of her forehead, but she still rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around him. And that's why Finn knew that she was lying. That line would always work on her, because it was true.

**..O..**

The second time she asked him they were watching a movie at his house. Kurt was upstairs, and Finn could hear him singing from his spot on the couch where Rachel was cuddled comfortably under his arm. His fingers were drifting along her shoulder absently (thank God she had worn that no sleeve dress that he loved so much) as he tried to pay attention to the movie. They had gotten into a whole discussion about how Finn had picked the movie last week and he called her out on that lie because he clearly remembered sitting through a god knows how long marathon of "the classics", as Rachel called them. He even proved it to her by reciting a few lines from the movies, which she rolled her eyes at. Finally, after a hard stare down that Finn was not going to back down from, Rachel sighed and sat down on his couch, telling him that _okay_ she would watch his _stupid boy movies_ but that _she would not enjoy them_. Kurt had come down then, and after a quick glance at the DVD Finn had put in he had quickly retreated back into his room, but not without slipping Finn a few comments on how horrible his movie taste was (to which Rachel agreed, the traitor) which he promptly ignored. He was used to it by now.

Anyway, Finn would usually be enjoying his _stupid boy movie_ quite a lot if not for the fact that Rachel had switched shampoos this week. He could tell. He closed his eyes, burying his nose in her hair and sniffing it a little. It smelled like strawberries.

The second Rachel placed her hand on his thigh, he jerked his head back. He could tell she was smiling, just by staring at the back of her head. He just knew. She leaned over and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, pressing a button and putting the movie on pause. Finn wasn't really bothered by it since he wasn't paying much attention to begin with.

She looked at him, and he could tell she was a little shy with whatever she was about to say.

"Finn, are you sure I shouldn't cut my hair?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. He reached up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, pulling a corner of his mouth up a little.

"I'm sure."

"But... why?"

"Because."

"Finn Hudson, you know that is not an answer." The crease was back. And her hand made contact with his chest. He winced.

"Don't hurt me, I'm fragile."

Rachel laughed, and he smiled. She turned around completely, settling into his lap and pushing her hair back from her shoulders, leaning her head forward to rest her forehead against his. His hands circled around her waist, his fingers playing idly with the strands of her hair that had fallen to the small of her back. He still didn't believe how absolutely soft it was. Quinn's hair hadn't been as soft, and he didn't think Santana's hair was soft at all. Anyway, he was pretty sure that he could bet a million dollars on Rachel's hair and win because no other girl's hair was as soft as hers.

"If you're so fragile then why are you on the football team?"

"What do you think all protective gear is for, Rach?"

She laughed again and poked his chest, looking at him from under her eyelashes. He loved it when she did that. But before he could close the space to kiss her, she pushed back and looked him in the eyes, her expression serious again.

"But.. really, Finn. Why?" She was still looking at him like that. He sighed.

"I love your hair. I know it's weird, but.. it's like an obsession. I can't stop touching it, or smelling it. Your hair.. well, it smells really good, Rach. " He paused. "And it's really soft. And you have all these ways of making it look pretty, which makes your face look even more prettier than it already is."

Looking at her now, at that expression on her face, at the sparkle in her eye and at the curve of her lips, Finn really _really_ wanted to kiss her.

"I know it's weird," He said again.

"I think it's cute." She smiled, and he let out a breath. "But if I cut my hair that won't make it any less soft, or make it smell bad, or make it less pretty. Well, actually, it might make me less pretty but that's a risk I'm willing to take." She nodded, like she was assuring herself and not him.

"You're beautiful."

"Thank you," Rachel blushed, tearing her gaze away from him and looking down at his chest, where her hand rested.

"Why do you wanna cut it so bad?"

"Because." Rachel didn't talk for a few moments, looking up at him and smiling before she kept going. "I just want a change. And since I can't really change anything else in my life at the moment, and I especially don't want to change anything with you or about you, I figured my hair is a good way to go."

"I'll just miss it." Finn sighed, taking her hair in his hands and marveling again at how soft it felt. He leaned forward again to rest his forehead against hers but she only pulled back, her grin completely taking over her face. Finn smiled in return. He couldn't help it.

"So you're not saying no?"

"Even if I did say no, you'd cut it anyways."

Finn took that moment to wonder if she was only asking him because he loved her hair so much. He knew she wouldn't want to displease him. If he didn't care about her hair at all, she probably would have hacked it all off. His eyes widened slightly at the thought. Short hair he could handle, but all of it off? He knew Rachel enough to know that she would never do that. After all, she loved her hair, too. Maybe even more than he did. Maybe.

He brought his attention back to her as she smiled at him, rubbing his chest in small circles.

"You're right," She said, and he laughed.

**..O..**

It was raining. Burt had been bugging him about mowing the lawn lately and Finn was glad to have an excuse for not doing it today. So he did what he always did. He lay on his bed, tossing a football in the air and thinking about Rachel. His thoughts varied from her laugh to her touch to her kiss and to her smile. Sometimes his mind got so carried away with thinking about Rachel that he began to feel like part of some Nicholas Sparks book. He was ashamed to even know who Nicholas Sparks _was_. But today all Finn could think about was her hair. She had told him last night on the phone that she had made an appointment at the salon (_"No, Finn not SuperCuts! All they do is ignore my requests and suggest dying my hair blonde."_) and would be going in the morning. He had made her promise to come straight to his house after she got it cut and she had said she would unless she was crying hysterically from how bad it looked. Finn had responded by telling her that she could never look bad and even if she did he would buy her wig. He could hear a smile in her voice when she thanked him. Another thing he loved was making Rachel smile. He didn't care if it was a gigantic grin or a tiny smile as long as the reason it was there was because of him. Her laugh was even better. And he especially loved that when he did something _she_ loved she would always reward him with a kiss. Her kisses were the best. Finn smiled to himself, accidentally forgetting about the football he was tossing until it hit him in the face.

"Ow," He groaned. He closed his eyes and rubbed his nose, sighing. Of course he would get hit smack in the nose with a football when he was thinking about his girlfriend. He tossed the football on the floor next to his bed where there were other things (magazines, a pair of socks, shoes he didn't wear anymore and his football helmet) scattered and heard a giggle over the _thud_ that the football had made when it hit the floor. His eyes flew open and he scrambled into a sitting position. He was slightly on alert until he realized who exactly was standing at foot of his bed.

"Rachel," He breathed.

"Kurt let me in." She smiled brightly, pulling off her coat and setting it down on his computer chair. It was then that he noticed how completely drenched she was.

"You're soaked." He muttered, standing up and walking over to her. He placed his hands on her arms and kissed her forehead before looking down at her.

"The rain got me." She shrugged but smiled nonetheless.

"Aren't you cold?"

Rachel only shook her head in response, stepping away from Finn and shaking her hair out of her face.

"Well?" She pressed, slightly lifting her arms and giving him a big grin. "What do you think?"

With a start, he remembered her haircut. His mind had been so far away that he had forgotten. But looking at her now, he couldn't remember what he had been so anxious about in the first place. Rachel looked the same, besides being soaking wet. She was still beautiful. She would always be beautiful. He knew that. Her hair reached a little past her shoulders, in straight lines. He could still see the different shades of brown in some strands when the light from his bedside lamp hit it just right. Over the smell of the cold rain, he could still smell her strawberry shampoo. And reading a hand out, running his fingers through it slowly, he could tell that it was still soft as ever.

"You look beautiful."

Rachel blushed again, swiping a hand over her forehead and taking a step closer to him. Her tiny hands circled his wrists, pulling his hands up to cradle her face as she smiled. Her face was warm, and he closed his eyes, leaning down to press their foreheads together. Finn could feel his heart swelling. It swelled every time she touched him, every time she even looked at him. At first Finn couldn't explain the feeling, because no one else gave it to him. But now, now he knew what it was. It wasn't just her touch, or her eyes or her lips or even her hair. It was her. It was _Rachel_.

"Thank you," She whispered, her breath fanning his face.

It was then that Finn realized that it didn't matter how much she changed her hair. He realized it wasn't his obsession with her hair but it was his obsession with her. With _Rachel_. And that wasn't weird at all. As long as she was _Rachel_ and as long as she was his, she could do whatever she wanted with her hair.

And he looked at her then, _really_ looked at her. At her soft skin and softer eyes, and her rosy cheeks and her pink lips. But besides her beauty he also saw her. _Rachel._ He saw her big words and bigger smiles and her beautiful voice and her creative mind and her beautiful heart. And then he brought her forward, his hands cupping her face as she melted into him and he kissed her until they both couldn't think straight.


End file.
